The Perfect Christmas Present
by MISS MANA ELLE
Summary: This is D/H. I guess you could call it fluff. I like it. Please R/R! Thanks a bunch! PLEASE R/R! One of the lines, quote: 'Two Lost Souls, finding each other' unquote. Anyways, please R/R! :}


ThePerfectChristmas Present

By: ~Emeralds~

Hermione sat outside on the snowy steps of Hogwarts, face in her hands. She felt so alone this time of year, why she didn't know. It was Christmas time. She was supposed to be happy. Hermione was so sick of everything. The burden she was carrying now was too heavy for her weak shoulders. She would have snapped by now, had it not been for that picture of her mom, the one where she was wearing her most encouraging smile. Hermione did it for her parents. Her _dead_ parents.

She hadn't even told Harry and Ron; they wouldn't understand. Ron had an entire family and Harry had a family he hated. How could they possibly understand how much she loved her family. They were inside eating dinner, swooning over the girls, wondering which one they would ask to the Christmas Ball the next day. 

In seven years, things had changed so much. From their fifth year on, Harry and Ron had been nothing but selfish and girl attractions. Hermione had gone out with Ron for a while in their fifth year, but she broke up with him because she caught him about to slip into bed with Lavender Brown. Voldemort was about at the top of his power, and Harry wasn't even worried. Hermione sighed. Why were things so horrible?

She took her face form her hands, and looked around. Her curls fell out of her face, but one hung in front of her eyes. Her cinnamon eyes searched the grounds, before stopping on the lake. A rock was singled out above all the snow next to the lake, and someone in a silver cloak was perched upon it. She tried to get a better look from where she was, but she couldn't. Snow was falling lightly, slowly, and she stood. She started to traipse through the snow towards the lake, pulling her black cloak closer to her shoulders. 

When she got closer, she could make out the fact that the subject was male and probably a Slytherin, as they hadn't moved since she'd been watching and wore a silver cloak. The subject wore a cloak with a hood and the hood was pulled up, so she couldn't see his hair color or face. She stepped around him just enough to see his face, at least a little. The face was pale, cold, grayish eyes accompanied the look, and she couldn't see any further thank just above his lids. She didn't have a clue who it was until a silvery strand of hair fell in front of his gray eyes. A light gasp was heard as she recognized him and stepped back quickly. Her shoes slipped in the snow and she fell over, into the snow. He didn't move. She stood quickly, and brushed some snow from her pants. 

He turned his eyes on her, then, and she felt like she was pouring her soul into him, or, rather, as if he was pulling it from her.

"What are you doing out here? Why aren't you inside with Potter and Weasley, asking some anonymous boy to go to the ball with you? Why aren't you celebrating the Holidays?" he asked, and Hermione had a hard time finding her voice again; it seemed to be frozen in her throat. A gust of wind came, then, and her curls all bounced into her face. She sat next to him on the rock, cautiously.

"I. . .I. . .I have nothing to celebrate for. I'm not going to the ball, and Harry and Ron and I aren't that close, anymore." Hermione said this sadly, as she realized she had no reason to live.

"Why not go to the ball? Someone will probably at least ask you to dance." She sighed as she tried to come up with things to say as fast as him.

"They're too full of themselves for you, then?" Hermione ignored this question, as she knew it was true.

"Why are you out here?" she asked, instead. She got no reply, right away. She realized he seemed like he resented saying anything to her in the first place, now. He sighed.

"Why do _you_ care?" he asked, coldly. Hermione stopped to think about this. Why _was_ she out here in the snow talking about why she was there with a _Slytherin?_ and why _did_ she care? _Because even some of the Gryffindor girls are swooning about how good looking Draco Malfoy is._

"Because I want someone else who was left standing out in the snow with no body to talk to, just like me." Hermione said. She had to say something. Draco looked at her. It was true. He did feel the same. He had no 'real' friends. He felt left alone, deserted; cold and rejected. He realized he was scared. Very scared of everything. So, so scared. . .

Hermione, I'm scared," Draco whispered, still staring at the lake. Hermione had never heard anything like that come out of Draco Malfoy's mouth, and had never intended to. He'd always seemed brave, and daring, and. . .and. . ._Why? How?_

"Why?" Hermione asked tentatively. 

"Why? Voldemort is coming back to power. I turned away; refused to join him and my father. He's going to kill me on Christmas; tomorrow. I know it. And I can't go back home. My father disowned me. . .and killed my. . my. . .mother. . ." Draco blinked once, a single tear running down his cheek and looked at Hermione sitting beside him. He slid his hood off, and Hermione had a sharp intake of breath. Draco's father must have gotten pretty angry. There was a scar, a small silvery scar, right above his left eyebrow, jus as if someone had taken a dagger to his head, and tried to carve something. Just an N is seemed, but smaller. 

Draco's eyes filled with tears. "He was raping her the entire time he was with her, and she never told me, not until she was dying. He raped her that one last time, and left her to die. And she did. She was pregnant at least eleven other times after me, and he made her abort every one of them. And that was only when he wasn't using something. . .Hermione. . ." Draco's tears came and he laid his head in her lap, and cried. Hermione, after a hesitation, put her arms around Draco's shaking shoulders.

"Shhh. . .I'm so sorry. . .Voldemort killed my parents, too." Hermione hadn't told anybody, and now her secret was out. What would she do?

"Where will I go after Hogwarts gets out?" Draco sobbed. Hermione's breath shook.

"I don't know. . .I can't go anywhere, either." Hermione stared at the boy in front of her. Draco wiped his tears, and looked up at her.

"I've never _ever_ cried before. Thank you. It feels good to cry. . ." Draco said to her. Hermione nodded, for is she would have talked, she would have burst into tears.

"Thank you for being out here, tonight, 'Mione." Hermione felt something inside her heart trigger. No one since Ron had called her 'Mione'. "I'm going back inside before I freeze. Thanks. And, go to that ball, okay?" He started to walk away, his tears gone, and so was his smile.

"Uhh. . .Wait!" Hermione had panic coursing through her blood, pulsing through her veins, but she wouldn't stop now. 

"Yes?" Draco stopped and turned.

"Hold still." Hermione approached him, and, doing this all quickly, grabbed his cloak and pressed her lips firmly, yet gently, tenderly against his. Draco didn't pull away, as Hermione thought he would, but let his fingers stroke her cheek, and his other hand slide around her waist. Hermione wrapped her arms around Draco's neck, and stood on tip-toe to reach him better. They both felt the connection; the way their bodies had that magnetic pull. 

When Draco broke the kiss, Hermione knew something was either very right or very wrong, because the snow al around them was melted. Draco felt so light, along with Hermione.

"I don't know what's happening. . .but I'm pretty sure we're meant to be together." Draco said. Hermione knew it, too. And she didn't have a problem with it.

"Me too. . .Do you have a problem with that?"

"No. . .Not at all. . ."

"We'll go somewhere after school. . ."

"Yeah. . ." They linked hands, and walked back to the school; two lost souls found each other. There was a path of melted snow that someone pointed out the next night at the Ball. That path never had snow in it again.

***

The End.

{A/N: Okay, well, anyways, I should be doing homework, but I wanted to get this up. Okay, so, it was D/H. I kind of like it. Please Review. Its Christmas, thats your Christmas present to me! REVIEW! Flames are welcome, but only because I guess I just want to know the truth, but if you do I'll be saying 'some Christmas present. . .' Thanks! REVIEW!}


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